Darker Moon
by King Ozymandias
Summary: It starts simply enough: five adventurers seeking a missing friend. But soon they will find themselves in the midst of a plot which, should it succeed, would doom thousands to a fate worse than death.


"Ten'lye amin i'annun e'kwayuln."

"Ten-yeh amin ee-anoon eh quailun."

The elf's laughter was soft, but drew the attention of the others nonetheless, while meanwhile the dwarf who had just spoken scowled.

"What? What'd I say wrong?"

The young-looking elf quieted, mirth still shining in his lavender eyes.

"The phrase you just repeated did not make a great deal of sense, I'm afraid." Elemere answered, one hand stroking the silvery spotted fur of the cat-weasel in his lap. "The closest I can come to translating it is to say… Something like 'Until I, man, am the firstborn whale who wails.' But you said 'amin' correctly. Unfortunately that makes it translate as a mental picture rather than a part of the message. Literally, you said, 'Until I man sunset firstborn wailing whale.'"

The dwarf snorted, spearing a chunk of meat with his two-tined fork.

"Bah. Your language is too complicated, elf. Don't need all the extra words just to make a sentence. 'Specially a drinkin' call."

"It's not a drinking call. It's a libating." The halfling piped up.

"Libation, you mean." Said the man to her right, who was clothed mostly in what looked like a large length of green and black tartan cloth.

"Well, I didn' ask for a religious phrase." The dwarf grumped, eyeing the auburn-haired elf with some irritation. Elemere spoke up, mirth fading as he tried to explain.

"It is a phrase spoken prior to pouring a libation, Master Oldorsson. But it is not a religious one. Among my people, a libation is not only offered to the gods, but as a celebration of having extra to give back to the earth."

"Hm. Still don't sound right to me." Glanthic said, stroking one calloused hand along his large moustache.

"Then perhaps you could teach us a drinking call in your tongue?" Elemere asked with genuine curiosity. "I know nothing of the dwarven tongue."

"Aye, I can tell. Thinkin' there's only one dwarf language gives it away." But Glanthic's voice was no longer so gruff. "Fine, I'll teach you one."

"Ooh, me too!" Donamira piped up, momentarily putting her bowl down. The man next to her grinned in amusement

"Right, you too. Now, say it after me. 'Baruk fur utz kaurn, vel a dauzki fur utz draukat!'"

Donamira did her best to repeat the phrase, but Elemere did not. Indeed, he asked to hear it no less than seven times, until Glanthic refused to say it again.

The five around the fire chatted idly after that while they ate the roasted pheasant they'd bought in town some thirteen miles away. They were a mixed group at best, all appearing to be capable warriors (two in particular, and perhaps not the elf or halfling).

The dwarf was called Glanthic Oldorsson, a ruddy-skinned dwarf with a five-braided beard and six-inch-long moustache, all of which was held by a series of steel rings. He had left his mountainous home to seek honorable battle and a fortune with which to stand his clan up on its feet again after being hit by hard times – but so far he had only found two humans, an elf, and a halfling. His weapon, a hammer with a head twice the size of his meaty fist, sat on the ground within easy arm's reach.

The first human – the one wearing the length of fabric he called a bart – was clearly a warrior, if the two-handed sword leaning up against the bench he was seated upon was any indication. His dark blonde hair was only a couple inches long, but his goatee – plaited into two small braids on his chin – was his defining feature. Besides the bart, of course. He was called Branan of Glenndalough, and he was seeking adventure and achievement in battle.

The second human was quiet, dressed in plain clothing of tunic and hooded mantle, his only defined facial hair a moustache that came down either side of his mouth just a little. He carried a sword at his side, and an unstrung composite bow at his back. His name was Darsaith Dalay, a man of respected but common parentage. He said that he owed Glanthic a debt, and so would follow him until it was repaid.

The elf was called Elemere, and had given his surname as Morningmist, saying that it was easiest to translate it into their tongue rather than get hung up on the pronunciation. He was a deceptively androgynous man with elegant features and feminine hands, and the autumn-leaf hair that, tied in its ponytail, fell between his shoulder blades did not help dispel that. He had explained that it was a family tradition to leave home for a time at a young age, and to return years later after having seen much of the world. He appeared very young – no more than twenty at the most, but spoke with excellent articulation, and claimed that he had been away from home (with only one visit) for fourteen years.

The halfling, who was the one to get the group together in the first place, was called Donamira Heatherhill, with the additional surname of Running-Goat. Or it could be a nickname. No one else was quite sure, and the halfling herself seemed perplexed when asked. She was a lively woman barely over three feet tall, with a frizzy mound of strawberry blonde hair atop her head. She had left her caravan, to hear her tell it, simply out of boredom, and indeed claimed that was why she sought out adventure and danger now.

By the time the five had finished their meal, a chilly early-autumn wind had picked up. This far north, the seasons tended to change early, and although it was only the end of August, temperatures were already dropping. The five adventurers were prepared for the chill however – at least the autumn chill. If winter came early, they would need to obtain more supplies.

"Darsaith, how much farther north is Winterhaven?" Donamira asked while helping to clean up after dinner.

"Twenty miles or so." He answered. "We should get there the day after tomorrow, probably mid-morning."

"Excellent." Elemere said. "I look forward to our arrival. Hopefully the people there will be able to provide some information regarding Branan's missing friend."

"Hopefully." The blonde man said, tugging at the thinly-braided ends of his beard to undo the plaits. "It isn't like him to up and vanish. A couple of weeks would be one thing, but he should have been able to send word by now if he was wrapped up in something."

"If he's in Winterhaven, we'll find him." Glanthic said firmly. "By your description 'e's a memorable fellow. Someone oughta know where he's gone."

The group cleaned up the camp and made sure the six equines were securely tied, then spread a large piece of canvas on the ground to serve as a groundcloth and pitched their two tents side by side. Or rather, Glanthic, Branan, and Darsaith did. Donamira mainly watched, being too small to really help a great deal.

"I will procure some additional firewood." Elemere said, taking up the small hatchet the group used for chopping wood.

"A'right. Be careful, elf. The road ent as safe up here as it was down south." Glanthic warned. "Here, take a torch."

"Thank you, but I can see quite well." Elemere answered, fastening his cloak about his shoulders. "The night is a bright one, which is all the light I require. I will return shortly."

With that, he set off into the forest. The others quickly lost sight of him, as their vision was not half so good in the darkness. (Glanthic, of course, could see perfectly to a certain point, but his excellent night vision did not extend far enough into the dark to spot Elemere at a distance greater than perhaps sixty feet.)

The others set about getting the tents up and putting their bedrolls inside. Donamira shared a tent with Elemere and Darsaith, while Glanthic and Branan shared the other.

"I still ain't convinced the elf ain't a woman." The dwarf mentioned quietly as he laid out his bedroll. Branan shrugged.

"Does it make a difference?" he asked, wrapping himself up in the great length of cloth that served as his clothing and bedroll at once. Glanthic grunted in response.

"S'pose not." He said, but in a way that made Branan think that it did make a difference to the dwarf, for whatever reason.

Darsaith traditionally took the first watch, but the group as a whole would not go to sleep until Elemere had come back safe and sound. And come back he did, about twenty minutes later, carrying an armload of firewood, which would keep until morning.

They took their usual watches. Darsaith went first, followed by Glanthic, then Donamira, then Elemere, and finally Branan, though Elemere was awake during Branan's watch. The elf only tranced for four hours or so a night, but he spent more time than that studying his spellbook, and often would trance again for a time in front of the fire when he had finished.

Branan wasn't sure what to make of the whole process, and so he remained more or less silent throughout. He didn't want to disturb Elemere – he hadn't seen the elf's spells in action yet, but he knew that magic was often powerful, and he also understood that this elf studied not just one, but two different kinds of magic – though the particulars were lost on him. He hoped to get a more complete explanation eventually, but at the moment he was inclined to keep his distance until he understood Elemere himself more thoroughly. Or herself, as the dwarf suggested, though why the elf would hide his identity in such a way Branan did not know.

Elemere and Branan awoke the others when the sun began to lighten the sky. A cold wind had stirred from the west, and the skies promised rain, likely sooner rather than later. They all kept their cloaks on as they moved blearily about camp – or at least, Glanthic and Darsaith did. Donamira was as cheerful as ever, while both Elemere and Branan had been up for some time.

After eating a light breakfast and putting out the campfire, the five broke camp, loaded up their five horses and the packmule, and set off along the road once more.

Sure enough, a cold drizzle began about three hours after they set off. The sun had never really come up; just hovered in the sky behind a curtain of clouds, casting filtered grey light onto the now-muddy ground. The group huddled in their cloaks, while Branan drew the cloth of the greatkilt up over him to shield his head from the rain. Any conversation they might have had previously had stopped, as all silently (and sometimes not so silently) complained about the rain.

As the five approached a small group of boulders scattered on either side of the path, Glanthic leaned forward in the saddle a bit, squinting through the rain. "Hold on. Thar's somethin' up ahead."

Branan nodded. "I saw something as well." He said, though he was looking in a different direction. The others all pulled their horses to a halt, casting eyes about the place. Branan began to get down off his horse, as did Glanthic and Darsaith.

Suddenly, with a strange mix of yap and high-pitched howl, several small, rust-colored creatures sprang from hiding, rushing at the group. They were reptilian in appearance and wore basic armor and used weapons, but their voices sounded like yapping dogs.

One of the creatures ran forward, spear hefted, and reached Darsaith before he had the opportunity to get his feet under him after dismounting. The little thing's spear got him in the arm, but it didn't appear to be a very bad injury.

Donamira spotted one of the creatures rounding a boulder to her left, but didn't have the chance to dodge the thrown javelin that came her way. It was a small one, but since the things were her size it was large enough to hurt. She took the javelin in the side and toppled over with a squeak, falling out of the saddle and hitting the ground with a thump.

Three others rushed out of hiding and began to fan out before the group. All three threw similar javelins at Glanthic, who yanked one out of his forearm like it was nothing at all before hefting his hammer.

"I'll get ye for that!" He hollered.

Another one of the reptilian creatures appeared atop one of the boulders, yapping something to the others before whirling a sling above its head and letting fly at Glanthic. The shot went wide, and a small ceramic pot broke on the ground a little to the dwarf's left, erupting in flames for a brief instant before smouldering.

Finally, two others – these dressed in armor made from the scales of some large reptile and carrying shields formed from a single massive scale, rushed out toward Branan. Both swung their short swords at him, one of which connected and left a light gash on his calf.

"What are kobolds doing this far north?" Elemere murmured to himself, turning Nutmeg in preparation to go run down the kobold that had shot Donamira. He needn't have worried though, for a moment after he looked in its direction, a crossbow bolt flew out from beneath her horse and caught the creature squarely between the eyes. It toppled over without a sound.

Darsaith drew his longsword with some reluctance; he was proficient with the weapon, but not nearly as skilled as he was with a bow. His strike was true, but the little creature's armor turned aside his blade, to his frustration.

Glanthic raised the maul above his head and charged at the kobold that had hit him, smashing it downward. The kobold leapt backward, visibly shaken but jeering nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Branan let out a whoop and drew his claymore, swinging it at the armored kobold to his right as he fell into a battle frenzy. His sword swooped through the air, cutting the kobold practically in half from the top down.

Elemere spoke a few quiet words of elven, shaping the magical energy in his mind before sending it off. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then roots suddenly sprung from the ground, wrapping around the legs of three of the kobolds and wrapping the corpse tightly, pulling it down as though trying to haul it underground. All three kobolds caught in the area yapped in fright and struggled to free themselves, but to no avail.

The kobold now caught between the raging barbarian and the ranger lashed out at Darsaith with its spear. It hit him in the stomach, but barely broke through his armor. The one fighting Glanthic stabbed at him with an angry curse (which no one could understand) and managed to catch him under the arm, causing him to grunt in pain.

The slinger changed targets, deciding that the elf was the most dangerous one on the battlefield, and cast a sling stone toward him. It hit, bursting open with fire like the last one, and Elemere cried out, trying in vain to put out the flames. The horse he was on likely would have bolted, had he not made a druidic connection to it some time ago after first purchasing it. As it was, Nutmeg snorted and pranced nervously, but did not actually try to toss her rider.

In a flash, the halfling was up and moving, ducking beneath the legs of two horses and turning a quick somersault past the blade of one of the kobolds. Her dagger, drawn sometime along the way, flickered out and cut the kobold in the back. Clearly she had hit something important, because the creature went down.

Darsaith trusted her to finish the job, stepping back and dropping his sword in favor of his bow. He nocked two arrows at once, turning to fire at the kobold slinger on the boulder. One of the two went wide, but the other passed straight through the kobold's chest and hit a tree on the other side. The little thing toppled to the ground with a wet gurgle.

A dwarven curse and a wet smack signaled the end of the kobold just below the boulder, and a moment thereafter Branan was wading into the grasping roots seeking another target. His claymore found that target shortly thereafter as one of the two remaining kobolds was cut in two.

Elemere managed to pat out the flames, though not without getting singed a little further, and Darsaith quickly finished off the final one by firing an arrow squarely into its chest.

All visible enemies defeated, Elmere dismounted and let the spell he had cast fade away, which left the road clear once more (but for a patch nearly forty feet on a side that looked like a plough had been run through it. Branan calmed down soon enough, and stood panting, hands on knees, for a minute while Donamira set about relieving the kobolds of their valuables – of which there were few.

"I am sorry." Elemere said after a minute, seeing the injuries of his comrades. "I was not prepared to provide any healing this day." Darsaith and Elemere patched up the group as best they could (which did little but stop bleeding, but that was something) and they set off again after dragging the corpses to the side of the road and leaving them for a patrol to burn – or for scavengers.

The next day, the dawn came bright, clear, and warm. The whole lot of them had laid out their wet clothes the night before (with the exception of Branan, who slept in the greatkilt as always – and with whom the others were beginning to become annoyed, due to the smell of wet body that clung to him), and so they broke camp a little later than usual. They mounted up, and had traveled for scarcely an hour before the treeline on their left ended, leaving them in open plains and rocky hills.

"I believe our destination lies that way." Elemere stated, squinting as he gazed toward the east.

"How d'ye know?" Glanthic asked, doing the same – though when he squinted his eyebrows practically covered his eyes.

"I can see smoke rising from beyond the hill. Look – there." He pointed one slender hand toward the hills, focusing the attention of the group. Sure enough, small tendrils of smoke were just barely visible there.

"Should we set off that way?" Branan asked, already leading his horse off the path.

"No, there's only one gate, and the road goes right into town. You'll just see the wall if you go that way." The halfling answered.

"Did you not say this was a very small town?" Elemere asked. "I did not expect them to have such defenses."

"I dunno. There used to be some kind of fort up here. Maybe it has something to do with that." Donamira shrugged, and the rest of the group continued along the road, urging their horses to trot rather than walk now that they were so close – all were looking forward to a trip to the tavern.

They reached Winterhaven in about an hour and twenty minutes. The town really was quite small, populated by no more than 300, not including the surrounding farms (which probably held an additional 600-700). The walls were formed of weathered stone capped with defensive palisades. The homes surrounding the town were mostly made of mud brick and thatch roofs. To the west and south, the forest was visible several miles away, while to the north, the rolling hills rose into tall mountains.

The five approached the gate, which stood open and was flanked by two guards.

"Welcome to Winterhaven." One of the guards said as they neared. "What brings you here?" He looked amongst the lot of them – quite a mixed group.

"We've come in the hopes of finding a friend of mine." Branan said. "His name is Staul. Douven Staul. Have you heard of him?"

"Hmm… No, I'm afraid not." The guard answered after a moment. "You might check the tavern. Most travellers pass through there, and Salvana has a good memory. You're sure he was here?" Branan shrugged.

"He said his path would take him here, and people tend to remember him."

"Well then, I'd say check with Miss Wrafton – Salvana Wrafton, that is, at the tavern. It's called Wrafton's Inn, but it's also the public house. She has rooms to rent most of the time, if you need it."

"Thank you." Branan said with a smile.

"And the rest of you?" The other guard asked. "You're seeking this man as well?"

"Aye." Glanthic said. "We don' know the man, but wit' no partic'lar place to be, why not help a friend?"

That answer seemed to satisfy both guards, who allowed them to pass through. And so they entered the town. Beyond the gate, less than a hundred feet away, lay a building with a wooden sign out front depicting an overflowing mug of ale, with a smaller sign attached underneath with a crescent moon on it, indicating rooms for rent.

"That must be the tavern!" Donamira said, urging her mount toward it.

"Wait, l'il one. We should stop there first." Glanthic said, jerking a thumb to their left, where a stable lay. "Best let the 'orses rest."

"I agree." Elemere said. "Additionally, leaving our supplies outside while we ask after rooms would be unwise."

"Hmm. I have a better idea." The halfling said, hopping down from her horse. "How about a couple people go take care of the horses, and the rest go straight to the tavern. We might have to find a table for all of us anyway." Glanthic shrugged.

"A'right, if you're so eager, on with ye. Branan an' the elf'll go along. Darsaith an' I can handle the animals." All parties agreed to the suggestion, and the group temporarily split up.

Branan opened the door to the tavern, striding in and approaching the bar straightaway. There, a tall, wide-hipped woman with fine, curly black hair stood behind the counter, filling a mug from one of the three casks there. She seemed busy, but her dark eyes flicked toward the door as soon as it opened nonetheless, if only for a moment or two.

"Come on, Ellie." The halfling said, tugging on the elf's pant leg briefly. "There's a table over there big enough for all of us."

"I will be along presently." Elemere answered. "I think it would be in our best interest to inquire after a room earlier rather than later."

"Yeah, but Branan's asking about that guy, Doden, or something. If you're up there trying to do business, she might not want to answer his questions right away."

"Hmm. That is an excellent point." Elemere said, turning to follow the halfling toward a table not so very far from the window. They both sat down – Donamira's face just barely visible over the top of the table – and Elemere cast a glance around the place. The town was mostly human, that much he knew – or had been told, at any rate. At the moment the place was not busy; only three people stood up by the bar, not including Branan, and despite Donamira's concerns there were several tables free with enough space for five chairs to be gathered around. Everyone in the tavern other than himself and Donamira was human. Only a couple gave them more than a second glance, however.

Branan returned in short order, carrying a tray of drinks with him, which he set down on the table.

"She remembers Douven!" he said with a broad grin, dropping into a chair. "He stayed here for a while, but he didn't tell her what he was here for. There's a man named Eilian who might know. He'll be here tonight."

"Excellent." Elemere said, leaning forward slightly to look into the glasses. "Ale?"

"Right."

Glanthic and Darsaith showed up soon after. Shortly after they arrived, Elemere rose and approached the bar.

"Pardon, Miss Salvana, I believe?"

The woman looked over. "That's me. What can I get for you?"

"It is my hope that you might have a room – or better, two – to lend to myself and my associates."

"Ah. Yes, I do, as a matter of fact." Salvana excused herself from the conversation she'd been a part of and approached Elemere, looking him over curiously.

"One room will run five silvers a night. If you rent three rather than two, I'd be willing to take the price per room down to four."

"Thank you. Does each room have a single bed or two?"

"Two, except for the private room. But that's occupied."

"I believe two rooms will be sufficient, then. I will pay for both." He reached into the coin purse at his side and plucked out a handful of silver coins.

"You've got eleven here." Salvana said after counting them. The elf smiled.

"Yes, I am aware."

"Anything else I can get for you?"

"I noticed that there is a small apple orchard outside your village. I wonder if you might have some cider available – no doubt it is too early yet to have harvested this year's crop."

"You're right." The dark-haired woman said with a nod. "But I buy enough cider every year to last me."

"If you would, two glasses. One for myself and one for the halfling." Salvana nodded and moved to the end of the counter, leaning down to draw from a small barrel below the counter. In short order, two glasses of dark cider were placed on the counter.

"I only have one size." She said with a shrug.

"It is of no concern." Elemere said. He dropped a trio of copper pieces into her hand, then took the glasses and moved back toward the table.

"I have procured two rooms for us." He said as he sat down. "Each has two beds, which will be more than sufficient if I share with Donamira."

"Darsaith an' I'll share a room."

"Then I'm with you two." Branan said, gesturing toward the elf and halfling.

The day as a whole passed uneventfully. The five split up to wander about town for part of the day, and ran into each other repeatedly throughout due to the small size of the place. Elemere inquired after a bath at the inn, Glanthic spoke with the town smith (also a dwarf) for a time, and Donamira spent some time around the town's interior gate, beyond which lay a large stone building that, according to the men who guarded the gate, belonged to the town's lord, Ernest Padraig.

That evening as the sun was just beginning to dip low in the sky, the five adventurers met in the market square, a wide space roughly situated between the stable and inn. From there, they moved into the inn itself, where people were just beginning to gather. Hopefully, they would find clues as to the location of Branan's friend before the evening was through.

(End Prologue)

A bit of information regarding this story... This is done mostly just for fun. It started with me developing the character of Elemere as a 15th-level character for future use in a campaign. Then I thought it would be fun to write a bit of backstory, and it snowballed from there into starting pretty much at the very beginning. These characters are fully statted as 2nd-level characters in D&D version 3.5, with just a couple of tweaks to the system. They are being run through the published adventure, "Keep on the Shadowfell," which I lay no claim to whatsoever. I likewise lay no claim to D&D, version 3.5 or otherwise, or to the elven or dwarven languages I used here (used badly, I might add, but it was just for fun). The only thing that I really claim as mine are the five central characters.

If there is something you would like to see happen in the story, let me know. This is pretty unplanned overall, and I'd love ideas for things that should/could happen later on in the story. I may or may not write up each character's background, also for the fun of it, later on.


End file.
